Back in 2021, someone told me about this copywriter. He was doing something interesting with his opt-in that was supposed to keep people glued to their inboxes for hours. Naturally, my curiosity got the best of me, and I signed up.

For a few weeks, I devoured every email he sent. They were quirky, sarcastic, and delightfully blunt—basically a masterclass in how to make email entertaining. But, there was also something a little off. I got the feeling that I wouldn’t like this guy much if I met him in person. Soon the whole "tell it like it is" routine hit its expiration date, and his emails began collecting digital dust in my archive.

That didn’t stop me from telling people about him. “He seems like a bit of an asshole,” I’d say, “But he’s doing some really interesting things.”

That was true up until last year, when Mr. Copywriter Extraordinaire decided to ban 85+% of all countries from subscribing to his email list unless they paid him $10 for the privilege to do so. But it wasn’t the decision itself that turned me off (he had absolutely valid reasons for making the move).

It was how he delivered the message that turned my stomach.

The way he spoke to and about the people he had decided to ban absolutely infuriated me.

So I set up a rule to auto-archive all his emails, leaving myself subscribed just to cost him a little bit of money and deliverability points (cuz I’m petty like that) and forgot all about him.

He wasn’t my people, and I am most certainly not his.

Which brings me to the idea of Identity Marketing, a term I recently heard from Veronica Romney.​

Most marketing is all about trying to get your ideal customer to buy whatever you’re selling. So, you end up agonizing over every little word on your sales page, cranking up the urgency, and slathering on the scarcity tactics like they’re your only hope. And you know what? It works... kinda.

Those tactics get sales, but they’re also work. Like, they don’t actually make your life any easier, because urgency and scarcity don’t build relationships—they just trigger FOMO.

And guess what? Building relationships is the key to easier sales (with less refunds and support emails).

But wait, what if you're not a personal brand? What if the idea of being the face of your business makes you want to crawl into a blanket fort and never come out? No worries, my friend.

Just look at Levi’s, Harley Davidson, or Coca-Cola. None of them rely on urgency to sell, and I’m pretty sure you don’t see the CEO of Levi’s awkwardly dancing on TikTok to make a sale. They’ve built identities that people connect with—whether it’s through rebellion, adventure, or nostalgia.

And you can totally do that, too; without a massive team, being world-famous, or having a million bucks in the bank (or, you know, being an 🍑🕳️—unless that’s what you’re going for).

Xo,
Sandra

PS—I don't know if writing about this summoned him or what, but I wrote this email 4 days ago, and this guy has come up in conversation no less than 6 times since then. The last time someone said, "He's borderline abusive to his audience, but he's started to mellow out a bit." And I'm not sure if that was an argument for or against subscribing.

Thoughts?